Harry Potter, No More! By DZ2

Synposis : What happens when all that a hero sees is death, destruction and dismay everywhere he goes? Easy: he looks to the heavens and he decrees two words: NO MORE! But what happens when Harry decides on this course of action? Dark Harmony;

Static : Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Drama - [Harry P., Hermione G.] - Chapters: 10 - Words: 50,669 - Reviews: 610 - Favs: 2,160 - Follows: 1,283 - Updated: Feb 3, 2014 - Published: Dec 24, 2013 - Status: Complete - id: 9952983

First Chapter

___________________

It seemed like such a small thing;

A moment in time that was frozen forevermore and left to hold itself in the arms of fate;

But with the one moment, everything was changed:

It was because of two little words: two words that could topple empires and bring the greatest of men to their knees; two words that could make the strong become weak and bring about impossible odds that could turn the tide of battle.

They were two words that could change the path of fate…and those two words were…Avada…Kedavra.

For Harry, those two words had changed his life once before: when he was a baby, barely older than a year and a few months, those two words had taken his parents from him and left him within a world of Hell that would be wished on no child. For a time, Harry had hoped and prayed that he would never see the effect of those words again and, though he'd learned of the words when he'd attended Hogwarts in his fourth year, it seemed that the words would never be uttered with the intent to change him or his life ever again.

Then came the Battle of the Ministry…

Harry Potter, No More!

"Avada Kedavra!"

Neither Harry nor Sirius had a chance to dodge or avoid the spell as the sickening green light flew from the wand of Bellatrix Lestrange, time apparently slowing down to an impossible speed as the curse hit Sirius, the deep grey eyes of Harry's godfather watching him for what seemed like an eternity before the wisping tendrils of the Veil finally claimed him.

As Sirius' body fell through the Veil, the grey eyes of the ex-Azkaban inmate met the deep green eyes of the boy he would die a thousand times over to protect and, with a smile that was only seen by Harry, Sirius whispered his final words to the world;

"I…love…you…pup…"

Then…he was gone and time seemed to stand still as Harry, eyes dry, but edged by a sense of fear and shock, watched the Veil with an air of expectancy to his glare: it was almost like he half-expected the Veil to reject Sirius and give him back to the world.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, all that happened was Harry, shoulders and arms trembling as his lip quivered, his heart seemed to freeze and his sense of pure good and innocence was lost. As those around him watched, Harry then lifted his head, his body still trembling before, with a cry that would have made the Devil himself shiver, Harry's voice rent through the silence with a roar like thunder:

"SIRIUS!"

The cry broke the hearts of the members of both Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix as they watched the boy's body tremble for a moment more before, alarmingly, Harry became still: not just stopped shaking, he was deathly still…like a statue.

"Harry?" asked Remus, moving towards his honorary nephew.

"Back!" Harry commanded, his hand lifting and, to Remus' surprise, throwing the man back like he was little more than a toy; lowering his hand, Harry surveyed the chamber while Remus was still awed by the power on display just from one word. It wasn't wandless magic, but neither was it Accidental or Emotionally-Fuelled: it was just…just magic.

"Poor little Potter," sneered one of the Death Eaters, lifting his wand and aiming it at Harry, "Did you love him so? Well…join him: Avada Kedavra!"

Once again, the green curse flew from the Death Eater's wand and, this time, flew towards Harry; however, as the spell neared, Harry suddenly lifted his head and, with an icy-cold voice that seemed to be edged by magic itself, he commanded, "Stop!"

To the shock of those fighting for the Light and the disbelieving horror of those fighting for the Dark, Harry's command was obeyed as the magical curse, the Unstoppable, Un-survivable Curse was stopped as though it had been caught in a great cloud of magic, the green light just hovering there.

Turning his head with a curious look, Harry blinked once before he glanced past the curse and, seeing the Death Eater – whom he now saw to be Dolohov – an icy, blood-thirsty smile crossed his face as he asked, "What right have you to deny my existence? You are nothing…and so you shall become nothing."

"Harry…" Remus repeated, the magic that had sent him flying back stopping him from approaching his cub, "What…what are you doing?"

"What I must," Harry answered, lifting his hand as though he intended to hold the power of the Killing Curse in his hand: as his hand tickled the edges of the curse's glow, Harry's own green eyes then turned on Remus, the werewolf gasping with shock when he saw the fiery glow within those green eyes.

The colour was far brighter than ever, like living flames within his mind had suddenly reared up and come out. But, to Remus' sharp lycan eyes, the eyes of the strangely-empowered wizard also showed him his pupils: what once were black like normal people now held a spark right at their centre, like a supernova had exploded within the blackness, trapped forever in Harry's green eyes.

As he saw this brightness, this raw power, Remus heard Harry's next words and his blood ran colder than cold…

"What I wish…"

Harry then flicked his wrist and watched as the Killing Curse flew back towards Dolohov, who turned tail and fled through the maze of rocks and bricks, the curse hot on his tail until, as he was cornered, Dolohov turned and screamed, "No…someone…stop it!"

"Disappear!" Harry commanded, the curse's power now hitting Dolohov, but, instead of simply dying, the green flash of the Killing Curse consumed Dolohov's body and, when it faded, nothing was left of the man…but ashes and his wand.

Lowering his hand, Harry glanced to the stunned members of his team as he stepped down off the platform and walked towards the tunnel where Lestrange had fled. Once again, another member of the Order – Mr Weasley – tried to approach, but again, Harry just glared at him and commanded, "Back!"

The force of his command sent the man flying into Remus, the werewolf's sharp eyes then picking up on Harry looking across the battlefield to where a certain brown-haired witch lay still…breathing, but still.

For a moment, Remus wondered if Harry was going to help her: however, all he did was step into the tunnel and out of sight of the group.

"Remus?" asked Arthur, rising from his sprawled position and helping his ally to his feet, "What…what was that?"

"I don't know," Remus answered, noticing the others watching and thinking along the same lines, "But I hope Lestrange can run…because Harry is out for blood."

"But…" argued Tonks, approaching the spot where Neville and Luna were crouched, both of them sharing the awe of the others while the Order cleared away the remaining Death Eaters, "He's Harry: he won't kill."

"He's not the Harry we know," Remus countered, walking towards Hermione and, making sure she was still breathing, he cleaned her up as best as he could before he added, "Not anymore…"

He then glanced to the tunnel where Harry had given chase before words leapt, unbidden, to his lips;

'Run Bellatrix…as fast as you can: because you will not see the new dawn if he catches you…'

Harry Potter, No More!

"I killed Sirius Black…I killed Sirius Black…"

Bellatrix's almost mocking song echoed through the Atrium of the Ministry as she skipped ahead, making her way to the Floo Gates, her laughter sounding like the cackle of the devil's concubine as she repeated her mocking song over and over again, "I killed Sirius Black…I killed Sirius Black…"

"And yet…all you do is run," a chilling voice remarked, the words almost silent and yet the voice projected through the Atrium as though it had been amplified by a Sonorous Charm.

Skidding to a halt, Bellatrix gave a soft chuckle before she turned and, seeing the dark-eyed figure approaching her, the insane Death Eater gave a pitying sigh before she asked, "Did you love him, Potter? Does it make you hurt to see him gone? Ah well, all bad doggies are put down, you know that."

"No," Harry replied, stopping on one side of the fountain, his eyes fixed on Lestrange while his hands flexed as though he was half-tempted to try and strangle her. "The only one who's being put down, Bellatrix, is you."

"And how are you going to do that?" asked Bellatrix, drawing her wand as she faced him, "You're nothing more than a filthy half-blood who persists on getting in my master's way: so now, I shall do him a favour and…"

"Get down!" Harry commanded, blinking once while, at the same time, Bellatrix's legs suddenly gave out, her body pressed down onto the floor as though through some intense force of gravity. As she hit the floor, Bellatrix cried out as her wand went flying, but Harry, lifting his hand in a powerful, commanding gesture, told her, "How am I going to put you down, Bellatrix? A little like this…I'm going to put you down and then…bind you!"

Once again, the strange magic that had empowered his unspoken fury seemed to answer his will and, as Bellatrix tried to struggle back to her feet, she found her movement stopped by the tiles on the floor suddenly climbing her body. They enveloped her like a mummy being swathed in bandages, but the female Death Eater still wouldn't go down easily. Instead, she reached over as far as she could and, rising up again, wand now in hand once more, she commanded, "If you won't just give up, then burn, Potter, burn: Fiendfyre!"

A torrent of bright orange flames flew from the end of Bellatrix's wand, their form taking the shape of a large winged falcon that swooped towards Harry, but, as the flames neared him, Harry just extended his hand out and, indicating the fountain, commanded, "Extinguish!"

Water flew from the fountain, rising into the air like a towering cascade, the wall of water now dousing the flames and leaving Harry in control of the battle.

Every word he'd spoken was edged with magic, but the young wizard didn't seem to waver or weaken…unlike Bellatrix, who now looked at the wall of water with fear and shock: however, as she looked to the visage of the young man behind the water, Bellatrix cackled before she asked, "What are you going to do now, Potty Potter? Are you going to unleash this water on me? In my current state, it'll probably kill me…and you won't do that: Harry Potter doesn't kill people."

"Are you so sure of that?"

The words were practically forged from ice as they were whispered from Harry's lips, his hand now lowering where, at the same time, the cascade of water completely surrounded Bellatrix, lifting her from the ground and her bindings and, instead of being rooted to the ground, she was now enveloped in a spherical prison of water.

While the Death Eater witch tried to use what must have been several different Dark Arts spells to try and escape her prison, Harry gave a soft sniff before he looked at her plight and, as he lifted his hand once more, he told her, "There's something you should know, Bellatrix: Harry Potter doesn't kill people…but I'm notHarry Potter…not anymore."

"Potter!" screeched Bellatrix, her words burbled by the watery prison around her, "Please…whatever you're thinking…don't: he wouldn't want you to…not Dumbledore's golden boy."

"No More!" Harry growled, then exhaling a cold breath from his mouth that, as it passed over his raised hand, became a cloud of intense cold that drifted towards the prison, the water that trapped Bellatrix once again snaking to the ground where, as the icy breath met it, the spherical prison began to freeze over. At the same time, the base of the prison also began to ice over, forming a new statue within the Ministry Atrium and its trapped prisoner who, as she looked to Harry, saw not a boy hell-bent on revenge or absolution or vindication.

In fact, Bellatrix didn't know what she was looking at, but she knew this much: it wasn't Harry Potter…not anymore;

Instead, whatever was now standing in front of Bellatrix just watched as the ice consumed her body, her hands and arms no longer able to try and escape the prison; her head was frozen in place and her wild hair was left standing on end like dark spikes in the air. Inside her body, the icy pressure entered her mouth, nose and ears and began to freeze her blood solid: her brain shut down, her tears froze long before they reached her eyes and, finally, her heart and lungs became little more than blocks of iced organs inside her.

Within the deep freeze, Bellatrix Lestrange was killed by the ice…and by magic.

Seeing his work complete, Harry sniffed once before he told the frozen witch, "Now we're equal, Lestrange…and so are you and the Longbottoms."

Turning away from the ice sculpture, Harry began to walk back towards the other chamber when, from out of the darkness, Voldemort appeared, his eyes wide with disbelief as he saw the iced form of his most loyal slave, the cold green eyes of the young Gryffindor now glaring at him.

"Don't even think of trying to avenge her, Tom," Harry remarked with his same magically-toned voice, "You want the prophecy? Then I'll give it to you…but once I do, we're done: I'm done with this war and being the laughing stock or wishful hero of the magical world. I'm done with Dumbledore and you both trying to manipulate me or destroy me: whatever you're going to do here, do it. But from now on, I'm done: no more Boy-Who-Lived; no more coincidental meetings where you try to kill me and, above all else, just…just no more! No More Mr Naïve and Ready to Die!"

Voldemort, stunned by the rage that was expressed by his enemy without even raising his voice, looked again to the sculpture of Bellatrix before he addressed Harry, "If you are true to your word, Potter…then I feel I have no other choice: you and I will meet one more time after this day and you will give me the prophecy. After that, I shall oblige your wish and keep the battle between myself and Albus; whatever you do, I wish you luck as, of all the enemies I have faced, you were quite the worthy opponent."

Harry gave a curt nod and vanished through the entrance back to the Veil Chamber, leaving Voldemort to approach the ice and, with a sigh, he tutted before he mused, "Oh Bellatrix, you just had to kill someone dear to him, didn't you?"

"You should not have come here tonight, Tom," an old voice remarked, cutting Voldemort off while the Dark Lord just smirked, a part of him wondering just when he'd show his face.

'I see your eyes are now open again, Harry Potter,' Tom thought as he turned to face Albus Dumbledore, 'You had better keep your word…'

"By which time I shall be gone…and you…shall be dead."

Harry Potter, No More!

When Remus and Arthur saw Harry return from the Atrium devoid of bloodshed and any signs of torture or emotional breakage, both of them also knew that they were right to be worried. The other Death Eaters had been rounded up by the Order and, as Harry stepped into the room, he glanced once again at the still-unconscious body of Hermione Granger, whose body was covered by a robe that hid her wounded torso, before he stepped past the Order and approached the last person they'd have expected him to speak with: Lucius Malfoy.

Stopping before the man, Harry lifted his hand and traced his forefinger along the bracelets that bound the man: to the shock of the others, the bracelets were then removed before Harry, looking up to the man's eyes, told him, "You're dead if they get you…you're dead if He has to find you."

"Either way, I am due a meeting with my Maker," Lucius replied, aware of the Order all having their wands trained on him and Harry.

"No!" Harry commanded, the same wandlessly-summoned barrier springing up around him that had been there when he'd deflected both Arthur and Remus, the barrier now surrounding the young Gryffindor as well as the Death Eater. While the Order tried to fire off several spells to penetrate the barrier, Harry addressed Lucius with a cool voice as he explained, "You have failed here, Lucius, but while I hate your son with a vengeance, I will not force him to lose a Father and your wife to lose a husband. You will survive this…and forge yourself a new life: whether that life stays with Voldemort or goes for an attempt to change is up to you."

"For now, know this: Sirius will have made me the new Lord Black and the Family belongs to me. I have already killed it once by taking her out, but as I said, I will not cause the loss of a family who has the chance now to change: so, in the name of that desire…and don't even think of denying you feel it…but, for your son…and your wife…I have one thing to say to you."

"And…what is that?" asked Lucius, noticing the green eyes of the young wizard almost glowing again.

"Go Home!"

Harry Potter, No More!

Lucius had barely any time to question Harry's words before, to his surprise, the Death Eater Lieutenant found himself standing in the foyer of Malfoy Manor, the lights of the estate giving a low shine to the room as the Malfoy Lord looked around in disbelieving surprise.

"How…how did he…"

"Lucius?"

The sound of his wife's voice made Lucius feel a marginally-sized bit better: moving through to his lounge, the man's eyes widened when he saw that she was sat there, her eyes looking as though she was going to cry.

"My dear?" asked Lucius, "What…why do you cry?"

"Bellatrix is dead," Narcissa answered, her voice calm as she rose and, putting her arms around her husband, she moaned, "I…I was afraid I had…I'd lose you too: Luc, tell me…what happened? Where did you go?"

Hearing the name that she'd always used when they used to date seemed to switch a light on for Lucius as he held her, shushing her sobs with a soft stroke of her hair before he explained, "I have made a mistake, Cissy…but I was given a second chance. And this time, on my Father's grave, I swear that this time, I shall not waste this chance."

"Who…who gave you the chance?" asked Narcissa.

With a shake of his head, Lucius sighed before he explained, "You would not believe me in a thousand years: for now, please do me one thing, my beautiful flower."

"What?"

"Send an owl to Draco at Hogwarts," Lucius remarked, earning a curious look from his wife as he added, "I do believe it is time we had a proper Father/Son chat about his future."

As Narcissa went to prepare the letter to send to her son, a feeling of intense warmth filled her bosom as she looked back to where Lucius was now standing, staring at that accursed mark on his arm before he looked into the flames of the fireplace.

All Narcissa could wonder was…

'What happened out there?'

Harry Potter, No More!

"Harry…what…what did you just do?"

"What I wished to do," Harry answered, his barrier keeping the members of the Order at bay as he stepped up onto the platform and, approaching Hermione, he kneeled down before he added, "And no, I won't reverse it."

"Harry!" Exclaimed Ron, clearly free of the influence of the brains that had hit him, "What…you just let a bloody Death Eater walk? What? Have you become a You-Know-Who sympathiser or what?"

"I'd explain it to you," Harry replied calmly, "But I'd need at least a week and more…now, be silent: I have more important things to worry about than your biased beliefs."

"What are you doing?" asked Ginny, trying to get close, but, this time, Harry's response was by sending her flying into her brother, his eyes fixed on both of them with an icy glare as he placed his hand on Hermione's chest.

"What I must," he answered, repeating his words from before as he looked down at Hermione's wounded form, "What I wish."

As his palm pressed down on Hermione's slashed chest, Harry's eyes shone with that same unknown power from before as he poured his magic into his will, the palm of his hand now glowing with blue light as Harry told her, "I'm not going to let you go, Hermione: not now, not ever…this wound…it's little more than a splinter…and it's my job to remove that splinter."

"You don't know what you're doing!" snapped Ginny, her eyes filled with rage as she saw how close her real true love was to this…unworthy little slut-bitch. "You'll kill her."

"As much as you wish that will happen," Harry retorted, frightening Ginny with his response as it was exactly what she was thinking, "I am far stronger than you think, Ginerva: and you can stop with the fantasies as well. I'm not one of those sickos out there with an Oedipus complex."

"A what?" asked Ron.

"Do something you're frightened to do," Harry scowled, "Read a book: long-story-short, I will not give my heart or my purity to a girl who thinks we have to get together because she happens to look like Lily Potter, my Mother. Now, excuse me," he cut off any questions with another wave of his hand and, as the group watched, they were stunned to see the barrier suddenly turn black, leaving them outside while Harry was inside.

Within the barrier, Harry guided his hand over Hermione's robe, feeling his magic press into the scar before he used his other hand to hold hers, his eyes still glowing as he told her, "Awaken, Hermione Granger: you're safe now."

With a murmur of discomfort and confusion, Hermione's chocolate-brown eyes opened before she looked into Harry's bright-eyed glare, her eyes then widening as she asked, "H…Harry? What…what are you doing?"

"Not doing, Hermione," Harry answered, lowering his hand before he snapped his fingers, changing her robe into – much to Hermione's surprise – a set of new robes that strongly resembled Harry's Quidditch robes, though these robes also had her name stitched over them. "Done…I'm sure the brightest witch of her age can get the hint."

Hermione looked down, seeing the robes that were covering her before she looked up again, seeing those bright green eyes that seemed to hold an eternity of light and power within their glare. It was only when Hermione looked down again and her brain finally registered the reminder of whose robes for which sport she'd just compared them to that she finally let out a gasp.

'His favourite sport and similar to his robes, but with my name on them…the sport he loves protecting…protecting the…'

"The one I love," Harry finished, rising from the ground before he seemed to stare off into space for a moment.

Watching him, Hermione wondered how much Harry could have been changed: she remembered Tonks telling her that Sirius…Sirius had died and Harry…he'd somehow countered the Avada Kedavra Curse and used it to turn a Death Eater to dust.

"Harry…" she whispered, wincing slightly as she rose to stand with him; extending her hand, Hermione was a little concerned when she didn't feel the damp skin that showed tears had been shed. Instead, Harry was still, silent and clearly not wanting to show weakness…not when he'd somehow discovered this…this Merlinean level of strength.

"I should have listened to you," Harry told her, looking down at her dark brown eyes before he took her hand from his face and, closing his eyes as though he was savouring the touch, he added, "I should have tried harder…and now…I don't know what's happening, Hermione, but I do know this: I'm done with the war…and I'll be damned if I'm going to let them dictate my future because of that senile old bat, Trelawney."

"What are you going to do?" asked Hermione.

"Something I never thought I'd do," Harry confessed, lowering their hands so that the duo were linked over his heart, "I'm going to stop playing the Gryffindor fool and start to become more of my Slytherin nature. Tonight showed me that I have power…and while I don't know where it's come from, I know this much: I finally understand what Tom always meant when he said there is no good or evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it. Well I'm not weak: I'm strong!"

Hermione felt her heart grow warm for a reason she couldn't quite explain as Harry continued, his eyes shining with the power inside him, "Strong enough to take down Slytherin's ancient beast and defeat Voldemort three times more than anyone else in Hogwarts: I can throw off the Imperius, speak Parseltongue and, apparently turn the Avada Kedavra into a curse that disintegrates the opponent on contact, but do you know something else, Hermione?"

"What?" asked Hermione, aware of how still and even-paced Harry's heartbeat was under their touch.

"I'm going to tell you a secret," he explained, looking into her eyes before he added, "And…while I sorely wish you don't do it, I'm going to let you decide whether you want to stay and help me discover more about this power and live my own life…or if you'd rather be away from me and back in the ignorance and one-track-mindedness of the war."

"O…Okay," Hermione gulped before she took a deep breath and, looking to his eyes, she asked, "What's the secret?"

"This…this raw magical power of mine," Harry explained, "I've killed with it…used it to take care of enemies and advocates alike and yet…despite everything I've been taught about such acts, I…I can't deny how much…I like it!"

"You're not serious?"

"Deadly," Harry answered, shivering with an air of awe and ecstasy as he added, "I like this power, Hermione…as in really like it: from what I can see of what I've used it for, it's like…magic…all magic is…is at my command. I stopped the unstoppable force; I moved an apparently immovable object and I wielded the elements as though they were toys. I healed a wound that would have probably scarred you for life and also changed your clothes so that you weren't caked in blood. I mean…" he then turned away from Hermione before he asked, "You're notscarred, are you? Go on, I won't peek."

As he faced away from Hermione, Harry heard a shuffling of clothes before Hermione gasped and, with another shuffle of the clothes, she told him, "You…you can look, Harry."

Turning to her, Harry's eyes widened when he saw that Hermione hadn't lowered her robes like he'd thought: instead, she'd completely shed them, showing little more than her trousers and a bare top, a black-lace bra covering her breasts while the rest of her looked…well, if Harry was being honest, she looked amazing.

"No scar," Hermione explained, tracing her hand along the underside of her breasts before she massaged her stomach, "I…I thought I was…I was going to die, but…you…this power…"

"I couldn't let you go," Harry whispered before he could stop himself.

"Harry," Hermione remarked, taking his hand before she pressed it against her body, apparently letting him touch her and feel her soft skin under his fingers, "I don't just mean the wound…it's more: you healed beneath it too; my body is…completely healed and it's thanks to you."

"You're my best friend," he told her, "I'd move mountains to protect you."

"Is that all I am?" asked Hermione, putting the robes back on before she asked in a teasing voice, "Or do you go around giving personally-inscribed copies of Harry Potter's Quidditch attire to all the girls?"

"What?" asked Harry, looking up to Hermione before he asked, "You…you mean?"

"I'll stay," Hermione replied, "I'll help you and, while I think you'll need time to think of me as such, if you want me, Harry, as more than a friend, then I'll be that too: yours."

Harry finally felt the tears that hadn't come before Hermione, approaching him, placed a gentle kiss against his lips before she asked, "So…what's with the barrier?"

"Oh," Harry answered, snapping his fingers where, to Hermione's shock, the outside world was no longer revealed as the cold, dread-infused Ministry Chamber.

Instead, they were back in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing, the ward thankfully empty of anyone around as Harry, helping Hermione to a bed, told her, "I just felt we had to get out of there…and here we are."

As Hermione took one of the beds, she turned to face Harry once more before she wiped at his eyes as she told him, "Don't be afraid to cry, Harry: your tears show you're still human."

"What else would I be?" asked Harry, earning a shrug from Hermione.

"I don't know, but I'm going to help you find out…my love."